Therapy Sessions
by Just A Writing Nonny
Summary: Why did Yamraiha take this job again?


**You guys know the gist by now.**

 **I own nothing except the story.**

 **The story referenced in this story is not mine.**

 **I hope you guys enjoy.**

 **Bonus to whoever can tell the story I referenced.**

* * *

Hot sun burned down upon Sindria, a cool sea breeze a needed respite for Yamraiha as she sat in her office. She glanced at the door, knowing her next appointment would be walking through that door any moment now.

The shipping queen herself had booked her for the next two hours.

Sigh, these were some of the oddest weeks that Yamraiha had. She was the official therapist of the Sinja Fanclub, and every moon cycle she'd hold, for a week, therapy sessions for her fellow club members who needed it.

And boy howdy did they need it, as proven by the fact that her entire week had been booked solid, even to the time she went to bed. She had an entire folder for everyone, but for Pisti, she had crates worth of documents of her problems and complaints, mainly for Titus' angst fics.

If today was like any other, than Pisti would probably be-

Ah, here she was.

The door was completely ignored, as per usual, in favor of bursting through the window, which, after three times of being broken, had been left open, on one of her bird friends, sobbing.

No, the guards did not come running. More than a few of them had a few appointments with her too, and most of them were in the Fanclub too. So, when the bird obsessed general burst through the window on her bird, no one came running and Yamraiha tossed some snacks to the bird as a good luck.

When the tiny sobbing General dismounted and sat down on the settee, Yamraiha got to work.

"Hello Pisti, how've you been?"

"I'm HERE. TODAY. How do you think I am?!" The irritable little girl sobbed, curling up. Her blonde hair hadn't even been put into its semi-neat pony tail, and just let loose, flowing around her head and making her seem more innocent, like a child.

"Then let's cut to the chase; What brings you here today?" The teal-haired girl asked, grabbing a quill and one of the many, many pieces of paper on her desk and dipped the quill in the ink lightly, tapping it against the ink well, the vibrations of the metal on the glass vibrating the air and creating sound that centered around the little jar.

"T-Titus' last fic… Wh-WHY did Ja'far have to g-get hurt like that…?" She asked, her breath hitching as she stuttered, suddenly getting up and running over to Yamraiha, hugging her and crying. "I-I know I wanted to see him get hurt but not like that!" She cried, burying her face against Yam's waist.

"You have to remember, Pisti, Ja'far's just fine. He's alright, and he's with His Majesty. He's alright, and they're as normal as ever." She said, writing with one hand on the paper and the other patted Pisti's head, sighing.

"I know that but that doesn't make it any better! Whyyyyyyyyyyyy…" Pisti cried, wanting nothing more than to just go cry somewhere and drown her tears in alcohol.

"Think of it this way; Would Sinbad ever let Maader control him..?"

"Maybe…"

"Would Ja'far let Sinbad be controlled by Maader?"

"No…"

"And would you really believe I wouldn't be able to heal Ja'far if that happened?"

"… Should I answer that?"

"Hey!"

"Kidding, kidding- You'd have the healers and the other magicians help, right…?"

"O-Of course I would!" Yamraiha lied. She did have quite a bit of pride in her skills, but she'd let the other magicians in Sindria and the official healers help out if it was someone's life on the line. Maybe. Possibly.

"B-But then Ja'far would diiiieeee-" Pisti cried, starting to sob again.

"H-Hey, Pisti—Ja'far isn't dead—He's fine-" Yamraiha tried, but decided it was best to let Pisti cry it out.

Minutes passed, and Pisti didn't stop.

An hour passed, and she didn't stop.

Another half hour passed, and she finally stopped.

"Y-Yam… Wh-What do I do…?" Pisti asked, and Yamraiha sighed, getting up and going over to a locked cabinet, smiling to herself slightly as she opened the door.

"Well, I'd suggest reading some fluff, smut and insanity. There's nothing like a laugh to cure your sadness." She pulled eight scrolls out from the cabinet, and with one hand she closed and locked it again.

"Read these before you come see me next, alright?" She handed the scrolls to Pisti, who nodded, wiping her tears away. "Then, update me on your progress during your next visit."

Pisti took the scrolls, keeping them close as she hopped back on her bird, and thanked her, leaving.

Now Yamraiha was alone, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle her next visit.

Hinahoho was on his way now, and from experience, she knew she didn't want to know what it was making him cry this time, as it would definitely make her sob and cry and be unable to do her job.

This was the job of the official Sinja Fanclub Headquarters' Therapist, after all.


End file.
